Right, here we go. Two more Kent posts, both worthy of your time (as are 99.9% of pubs, to be honest), then a GBG completion update.
Mrs RM just asked how far behind I was on the blog and I told her “200 pubs“, which tells you about how time is measured in retiredmartin land.
“You’ll have plenty of time to wrote those once you’ve done the garden” she replied.
“**** the garden” I said, once she was out of earshot.
Anyway, Broadstairs, a “My Perfect Cousin” to Ramsgate chaotic uncle and Margate’s old punk
VERY smart in Reading Street, in fact, golf clubs, pebble dash and gated communities; which makes the White Swan a genuinely unknown quantity.
A Tomson & Wotton house, which will mean more to Paul Mudge than me. There’s seemingly been a change of licensee, so the beer range will appeal more to Paul and me than the GBBF crowd.
The pub has been open five minutes and it’s already clear the 5pm Golden Hour is in full flow, with a couple of dozen in.
I stand politely at the public bar (4p cheaper says What Pub) with a handful of change and attempt a smile (Note to self : Don’t).
No-one notices me, it’s like I’m an invisible elephant in the room. Unlike the Fremlins elephant.
Three staff rush around, no-one makes eye contact, one points at me and another says “He’s being served“. But I’m not. The third staff member nods at me but then serves a bloke who’s just walked to the bar his usual Guinness. It’s like being in a certain sort of local on the South-West London/Surrey border on a Chelsea matchday.
Eventually a lovely young chap does see me, apologises for the wait, and pours and tops up a decent pint of Doom Bar.
I go from irritated to mildly enchanted in five minutes, and despite tripping over the dogs at the door I reckon it’s a classic slightly upmarket local. Whether Doom Bar and Tribute is enough to keep a pub in the GBG is anyone’s guess.
Here’s today’s highlight from the soundtrack.
And here’s the pub sign of the day.